


maybe it's alright

by palateens



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fights, Homophobic Language, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 06:57:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11008290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palateens/pseuds/palateens
Summary: It didn’t matter. Bitty assumed that Kent would never hurt him, and he had been wrong.OrBitty and Kent have their first fight.





	maybe it's alright

**Author's Note:**

> Originally prompted on Tumblr: When I look at you all I can see are the mistakes we’re going to make. (The future’s so bright.)
> 
> This is eventually going to be added to the same 'verse as my entry to Omgcp big bang. For now, just know there's alternate timeline to Year 2.

“So, what’s it like in Vegas?” Bitty’s cousin Robert (Bobby) asks Kent half way through lunch.

When Bitty had invited Kent to come for the 4th of July, he’d warned him about his family. More specifically, he’d warned him that they had a tendency to chatter.

“Y’know,” Kent shrugs, “dry heat—douchebags shouting on every street corner. Lots of booze and gambling.”

Bitty discreetly rolls his eyes. As if any of that was a bad thing in Kent’s book.

Bobby whistles. “Must attract a lot of…strange folks.”

Kent takes another bite of his potato salad. “I guess. I’m probably the biggest freak out there.”

“Kent,” Bitty huffs.

“What? You gotta admit I’m out there-Dicky,” Kent snorts at the nickname Suzanne revealed to him two days ago when he landed in Atlanta. “Short, millionaire playboy. I’m like Tony Stark with more charm and less wits.”

“You have an incorrigible sense of humor,” Bitty chirps. “That’s all.”

“Tomato, potato,” Kent hums.

“I gotta ask,” Randy interrupts. “Is your team the queer one?”

“Guess that depends on your definition of queer.” Kent twirls his fork lazily. “If you mean are we all queer—then no. We’ve got some bisexuals and pansexuals. I think there’s a few straight guys on our farm team if you want me to ask?”

Kent stabs his coleslaw somewhat violently, causing Bitty to flinch. “Or were you talking about how we made sure that asshole who called my liney a flaming faggot a five-game suspension and the heaviest fucking fine in the NH-fucking-L? Then yea, we’re pretty faggy.”

He rises slowly from the table, eyes never leaving Randy. He nods curtly as he picks up his plate. “Thanks for the food, Suze,” he tells Suzanne quietly as he heads back into the house.

The rest of the family turns to Bitty, staring at him as if his neck had grown an extra head. He feels his face heat up as he shrugs with panic—absolving him from the outburst of his eccentric celebrity friend. They eat the rest of their lunch slowly. Bitty can feel his father’s eyes weighing down on him like he’s a bird yet to be caught. He hasn’t felt this self-conscious since his friend Stacey from his co-ed team asked him to the Sadie Hawkins dance Junior year of high school, and all his family was waiting with baited breath for something. (To this day, he doesn’t know if they were waiting for him to lose his virginity or come out.)

After dessert is served, he asks to be excused. Mama lets him go with a concerned frown. He tries not to overthink it as he heads to his bedroom. Kent’s sitting at his desk, his leg’s bouncing a mile a minute. He’s staring at his phone, earbuds popped in but the volume’s loud enough for Bitty to hear it across the room. He taps Kent’s shoulder a few times, earning him a glare as Kent removes one bud.

“Hi,” Kenny says neutrally.

“Hi?” His voice cracks. “That’s all you have to say? Hi?”

“Would you prefer I say something more formal?” Kent chirps. “Greetings, salutations, the fuck is wrong with your family?”

Bitty sputters, “my family? They’re not the ones causing a scene down there.”

“A scene? Bits, I don’t know what mediocre theatre programs they have here down in homophobe land—but that wasn’t a fucking scene. That was some goddamn fucking restraint.”

“You were threatening my uncle with a fork Kent Vicente,” he snaps.

“He was the one going on a gay witch hunt!”

“Don’t you think I know that!”

“Then what are we fucking yelling for!”

Bitty scowls, point at Kent accusingly. “You have no right to waltz in here and destroy everything I’ve worked for.”

“Worked for?” Kent chuckles acerbically. “They were treating us like a road side attraction. They want me to out you. They’re dying for it. They’re begging for it! Is that what you were working for? Good fucking job, babe.” He slow claps. “You’re an inspiration.”  

“It’s no worse than what you do!” Bitty seethes. “You think no one’s gonna care that you’re gay if you’re always covered in glitter and shouting fuck you? You think you’re so clever and strong and safe? You’re not Kent!”

“At least I’m myself,” Kent hisses. “Not some spineless coward who says his p’s and q’s before he gets shoved back into the closet.”

Maybe Bitty hadn’t told Kent about his night in the utility closet. Maybe he had when they were greening out one night in the reading room. It didn’t matter. Bitty assumed that Kent would never hurt him, and he had been wrong.

“Get out,” Bitty rasps.

The blood drains from Kent’s face. “What?”

“Get out!”

Kent walks out the door, slamming it so forcefully that the door shakes and groans. Bitty slumps against his desk, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. He doesn’t go after Kent. He doesn’t look out the window when he hears the engine of Kent’s rental car roar to life. He doesn’t try to call or text him. He doesn’t look at his phone when Twitter notifies him that Kent’s posted something. Instead, Bitty stares at the door of his room. He cuts away at the wood with his eyes; burying his frustration, anger, and hurt into imaging the door looking as worn and decrepit as he feels.

Around sunset, he finally moves to his bed. His head bangs a bit on the back wall. The pain bothers him not as much as he expected it to, it’s almost cathartic. It makes a twinge of panic run down his spine as he wonders what Kent will do when he stops demonizing Bitty for opposing his methods. But Bitty is emotionally drained. Kent had made him promise to always look after himself first. He was glad he listened. He still isn’t sure that he did it right, or that he could even be in the same room as Kent now. But he knew it could be worse.

A half an hour later there’s a soft knock on his door.

“Come in,” he says with an exasperate tone.

He doesn’t look up when he hears the telltale sound of Kent shuffling into the room.

“Can I sit?”

“Yes,” Bitty tells him. “I don’t want to be touched right now.”

Bitty sees Kent nod out of the corner of his eye. He feels the foot of his bed dip. They sit in silence for a while. Bitty isn’t about to do the heavy lifting for him.

“I’m sorry,” Kent mutters finally. “You invited me. You warned me they’d act like this. You told me I didn’t have to be there if I couldn’t handle it—” His voice cracks.

They sit there for another minute, then two.

“I didn’t consider your feelings. I put you in a dangerous situation. I—I didn’t think about how it would hurt you to be a complete dick to your family.”

Bitty nods. He scoots closer to the wall, patting the bed next to him. Kent scrambles to lie down next to him. Kent faces him. Bitty can feel his hot breath sending shivers down his spine.

“I’m sorry too,” Bitty admits finally. “You were clearly splitting, and I panicked. That doesn’t mean I like or forgive what you said. But I shouldn’t have escalated things.”

“It’s ok,” Kent rushes to say. “I guess—it’s not. But I get why you did it.”

“Do you?” Bitty asks in disbelief. “Because I don’t really get it myself.”

“You were scared.” Kent shifts his weight. “You wanted to keep us safe, right?”

“Yea…” his voice tappers. “I…I was.”

Kent sighs.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Kent lies.

“Baby, please,” Bitty says impatiently. “It’s been a long day. I need you to tell me what you need.”

“I’d like to be held—but that’s ok if you can’t do that right now.”  

Bitty rolls over, his expression softens when he sees how composed Kent’s trying to keep despite the watering of his eyes. It occurs to him that this is probably in the top five worst birthdays ever. He pulls Kent into his arms.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Bitty repeats.

“I’m sorrier,” Kent chuckles through a sob.

Bitty squeezes him tighter. “We’ll talk about this in the morning ok?”

“Ok.”

They lie there for who knows how long. Bitty thinks Kent’s fallen asleep until he shifts in his arms.

“Babe,” he whispers.

“Yea?” Bitty replies.

“That was our first fight.”

“You’re right.”

“It could’ve been worse,” Kent reasons.

“Could’ve been a whole lot better, sweetpea.”

He feels Kent nod. “Are we gonna be ok?”

“Yea,” Bitty sighs. “I love you and you love me. And we’ll work through things.”

“Whatever it takes, Bits,” Kent murmurs. “I’m happy as long as you are.”

Bitty hums softly. He knew dating Kent wouldn’t be easy. He was upfront about everything—the history with Jack, the alcohol abuse, the therapist he started seeing at Nursey’s suggestion. Most people don’t come with their own warning label. But maybe they should. Bitty kisses Kent’s temple reverently. It was a long day, and a messy visit overall. But he couldn’t keep acting like his life was made of separate boxes that he could keep away from each other. He loves his friends, and he trusts his parents.  His boyfriend would take the moon and the stars out of the sky to make him happy.

 He could see them coming back here a year from now, maybe when the tension in the family died down. He could see them with a house in Vegas or Seattle or wherever Kent could get a good contract. He could see Kit curled up by a swanky fire place, and maybe toddler or two. He could see them having twenty or fifty or a hundreds other fights like this. But each one a little different, a little less heated, a little more patient and kind. Maybe that’s enough…for now at least.

“I am, sweetheart,” Bitty promises. “I really am.”

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title- lyrics from Peaches by In the Valley Below


End file.
